"Oh,
my head hurts. Where am I? What a headache." Miles sniffed, "Can't
smell anything but mold. Is there anyone here?" He listened and felt
around for his cane. Miles listened for an echo, "Hello!" he yelled.
It was a large room. He felt around himself for other furniture. A desk. He
felt for anything on top.

"My cane! At least they aren't complete barbarians," he whispered
out loud as he unfolded it and began tapping his way around the room. The
wooden floor creaked the way old wooden floors do when they have become
comfortable paths. The walls were hard and uneven like very old lath and
plaster. Miles tapped his way around the room, feeling his way along. He came
to a place that the tap was missing. He froze. Miles could feel a wind draft
that felt upward. He knelt on his hands and knees and felt forward on the
floor. There was an edge. It was splintered and taking his cane, he could not
tap or touch anything, anywhere forward of him. There were no railings, it was
not manufactured, it was just missing.

Miles
panicked and sat back against the wall.

"Oh dear God, where am I that a mistaken step could be the end?"
Then he heard a voice. A voice that was almost more of a whine than a melodic
sound, it was nasal. He heard a misshapen laugh. It had an evil sound to it,
like a man who was insane by civilized standards but admired and feared in
barbaric societies. He was not alone.

"As you can see, you would do well to stay where I put you. This place is
even dangerous for someone who can see!"

"What do you want from me? Take me back?"

"You're my guest. You should smile when hospitality is given to
you."

"Thank you, but if you don't mind, I would just as soon skip the
hospitality and go home, please."

"I think not. Little blind dog. I think you shall stay for a little
while. Like the other boy."

"What other boy? Do you have Jamie?"

"Yes, Jamie. That is the one. Yes, we have him. Do what we say and he
won't get hurt."

"Okay, okay. Don't hurt him. I'll do what you want. Please, can I see
him?"

"No, it is not convenient for me. Perhaps later. Who is he to you, anyway?
Why should you care if we kill him or not?"

"Please don't, oh please. If you want money I can get you money, just
don't hurt him."

"Answer the question. Who is he to you?"

"He is my life, my love; my Jamie."

"Allah spits at the unnatural affairs of boys who like boys. They should
have killed you when they found you defective. Now they allow this pig to do
things to you. I will be merciful and perhaps kill you together. Then you can
see each other in oblivion."

Miles
scooted back towards the bed where he came from, whimpering. "No, please
don't hurt me."

"Sirhan!" The man shouted. "Sirhan, come and sit with this
trash until our business is done. Then, if you are good, I will let you cut his
throat. If he misbehaves then push him in a hole. It'll look like an accident.
Tell him nothing of his friend. They are unnatural. I have to go wash before I
pray. He is filth."

Miles
heard footsteps coming closer. They were not the steps of a full grown man.
They were the steps of a person with a smaller frame, perhaps a boy near his
age, but not a man. Miles trembled.

"Get up!" the voice said.

Miles
unsteadily got to his feet as the hand of the boy pulled him towards the bed.
"Sit here and don't move or I will have to kill you."

"Why didn't your parents kill you when you were born and save you from
this life of misery?"

"I wasn't blind when I was born."

"Then what?" he shot at him. "How did it happen?"

"I saw something terrible and it made me blind," Miles mumbled.

"Then you are blind because you are weak? What did you do to piss Allah
off like this that you should be born weak and unnatural?"

"What I saw hurt my heart so badly that my eyes refused to see for chance
it might see such horror again. I survived it. I am not weak. As for the
unnatural part, the feelings I have for Jamie are natural."

"Allah says sex is for making children, more followers to worship him.
Sex for any other reason puts the body before Allah."

"Not every relationship in life has to be about making babies. Sometimes
it's about being held and feeling your warmth against another, smelling the
scent of another."

"Yeah well, I smelled the scent of Rafa and it was not pleasant. He
needed a bath."

"Yes well, Rafa doesn't have a monopoly on that."

"What are you saying pig?"

"Oh relax. You could use a bath and so could I."

"Are you suggesting. . ."

"I'm suggesting that I need a bath and probably don't smell particularly
good at the moment. It is hot and dirty here. There is no air movement. Is
there a window you could open?"

"What, so you can yell for help?"

"And
what, give you reason to kill me?"

"Yes and I would do it most unpleasantly. There are no windows."

"Well how about a bathroom. I need to go."

"There is a bathroom. Come this way. If you try anything . . ."

Miles
cut him off, "Yeah I know, I know. You will have to kill me."

"I am glad you are not stupid as well."

"Here is the bathroom, now go."

"Do you plan to watch me? It is hard to go when someone is
watching."

"You are blind, how would you know if you are being watched."

"I know."

"How could you know?

"I just do."

"You are guessing, but I will turn my back."

Miles
began to relieve himself.

"How do you know where to aim?"

"You're watching!"

"No, I'm listening. How do you know where to point to hit the water? Why
aren't you pissing all over the place?"

"Because, I am not an uncouth heathen. I know where it is coming from and
where I am sending it to. Like anything else, you learn by practice."

"How can you practice? There is barely enough to hold onto!"

"You were looking!"

"No I was not looking."

"You were too looking. Or you would not know my size."

"Of course I would. All Americans and British have small equipment. It is
a known fact. It is because they are less of a man than any Arab."

"Yeah, right."

"It is true. It is written in all the books. It is nothing to be ashamed
of. You cannot help being born with small equipment. Besides that, you are not
chosen or you would have been born a sighted, woman-loving, Arab instead of a
pathetic blind dog who is unnatural."

"How
old are you? You sound like you are eight."

"I
am thirteen. Now, shut up or I'll have to kill you."

"Have
you ever killed anyone?"

"Well,
no. Not yet. But Shileesh promises you can be my first."

"You
look forward to killing?"

"Of
course! To kill for Allah, there is no greater honor."

"And what about you? Is it good for you? Can you imagine killing someone
you have shared life with and then, by your hand, cut it from life? I would
feel sad and I would see that person's face every time I closed my eyes."

"Yes, but you are weak."

"Yes, I know. Weak with small equipment. But even you and I, who are not
friends, not really enemies. We have talked. You could kill me?"

"Easily, you are a dog before Allah."

"Yeah well, you have a lot of years before you have to face Allah. That
is a long time to see the face of one you have cut out of life."

"You talk too much. What do you know of such things?"

"I know. I've seen death. It was so horrible that my eyes refuse to
see."

"Only because you are weak."

"Oh? I don't see myself as weak. Weak would have given up. I went on. I
had the courage to go on. I hope you have the courage to go on. Killing may be
an easy thing to do, but will it be easy to live with afterwards? There is no
fixing it once done. You can't un-kill someone with an, "I'm sorry."
I hope you are strong enough. It would be a shame to have innocent blood on
your hands when you face Allah."

"You are not innocent. You are corrupt in your ways."

"I am not corrupt in my ways. They are just different ways."

"There is only one way, the Koran."

"Wait, you live your life by a book?"

"It is not just any book. It is the Koran."

"Well how does it write about the indescribable things in life?"

"What is this indescribable things you speak of?"

"You know, things like love."

"Love is not important. Service is important."

"Love is not important? You could only say this if you have never been in
love."

"I have been in love!"

"Yeah? With who?"

"None of your business with who. I was. That's all you need to
know."

"Was it a boy or a girl?"

"How can you ask such things? I am not unnatural like you."

"It was a boy, wasn't it," Miles said, quietly.

"No," the boy whispered. "Well, he was, but then we had to eat him or the
soldiers would take him."

Miles
gasped. "You had to eat him? Your people are cannibals?"

"Of course not! Don't be stupid. He was our goat."

"You were in love with a goat and you call me unnatural?"

"Yes, what you do with other boys is not right. I did not say I was
"in" love with our goat. But he was my friend and kept me warm many
cold nights up on the hillside. He was a good goat. He tasted good too."

"What part of him did you eat?"

"Why do you ask this? I do not know. It was little square pieces with
rice and curry. To know where it came from is madness."

"Then perhaps you ate his penis."

"No! We do not eat such things."

"Hey, it was little squares. How do you know?"

"His penis was not square!"

"Ah! Then you looked at his penis?"

"No I did no such thing."

"Then how do you know his penis is round?"

"I just know. And it was bigger than yours too, I might mention."

"You were looking."

"No I wasn't looking but I did see it. Briefly."

"Briefly."

"Yes, that's what I said. Briefly. I mean, I wasn't looking and then the
next thing I know you had it out in your hand and so I saw, but only
briefly."

"And the goat?"

"What? You are going on again about the goat."

"Yes, well, did you see his briefly too, or did you touch it, too?"

"What? You are a mad man. Why would I touch a goat's penis? That is a
disgusting thing to ask."

"Perhaps, only briefly?"

"No, not even briefly."

"But you did look at it."

"I have seen it, yes. All goat herders have. It is natural."

"And it made you hard when you saw it hard?"

"No, why would you ask such a thing?"

"And I suppose yours never get's hard."

"Only when it is natural for it to do so."

"And when is that?"

"Well, in the morning. Sometimes, when you have had too much to drink
before bed."

"What about when you go to bed?"

"What about it. I go pee before I go to bed. There is no need."

"Even when you think about your goat?"

He
sat still and Miles heard him squirm and his nostrils flared. He had just
adjusted himself. He was sure he caught a scent of boy.

Miles
whispered, "You are hard now. I can smell you." Miles grabbed his
wrist over his shirt sleeve and brought his fingers close to his face. His
scent was strong. Miles breathed in deeply and smiled, it was boy scent.

The
boy pulled away. "You must not speak of these things. I do not want to die
like you."

"I don't want to die either," Miles whispered. "Maybe we can
help each other."

"Shut up! You must not even whisper such things." There was a
mixture of anger and panic in his voice. Miles knew he just stepped over the
line as he felt the boy get up and walk over to where the voice was coming from
before.

"Uncle!" The boy shouted.

"What do you want? Your uncle has gone out."

"I want some food and water and also for the prisoner."

"I will bring water but we have no food until dinner."

The
voice was getting closer as it spoke. "Here, take the water. Take all four
bottles. Don't bother me again."

Miles
heard the boy return to his side. "You are very lucky. If my uncle heard
you, we would both be dead. You for saying it and me for not killing you before
you finished getting the words out."

"Thank
you for waiting. I'm sorry. I won't mention it again."

"Good, your life will be longer."

"A worthy cause for my silence," Miles said, picking up one of the
bottles and unscrewing the top and taking a big swig from the bottle.
"Thank you for the water. It is very good."

They
were quiet for what seemed like a long time. Then Miles spoke.

"Sirhan," he said quietly.

"What do you want?"

"Let me touch your hand."

"Why? What are you going to do?"

"Nothing,
I just want to touch your hand. Sometimes when I do I can see a person's
future."

"You are a soothsayer? Such things are not of Allah."

"Maybe not, but aren't you the least bit curious about your future?"

"No, I know my future. It is to fight and die a martyr for Allah. Then I
will go to paradise and have 70 virgins to serve me."

Miles
sat quietly. A short time passed.

"Alright, but only because I am bored. And you may only touch me a
little."

Miles
reached out and let his fingers slowly slide over the back of Sirhan's hand and
he gripped his hand as a swirl of pictures and events paced through his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Charlie! Oh thank God. Charlie, they have Miles." Chet said
frantically into the phone. "They took him right out of the car."

"Where are you now?"

"We're right outside the warehouse."

"I want you to get in the car and go back to the manor."

"We
can't. I've called the Yard and they're on the way."

"I'll
take care of that. Now, get in your car and go. Now!"

Chet
got in the car and Jamie asked, "What are you doing? We can't leave."

"Get in. Charlie says we have to leave here now. So get in."

"I'm not leaving here without Miles!"

"Jamie, I trust Charlie with my life."

"Yeah well, not everything is in Charlie's control. You leave. I'm going
to find Miles." Jamie took off the opposite direction the car was facing.
Chet swung the car around but Jamie was gone.

"Damn bloody hell!" Chet screamed as he smacked the steering wheel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mac, they've got Miles. I've got to have them."

"Damn! Why didn't they listen! Holy Jesus, Joseph and Mary! Well, the
salt is in the soup now, isn't it! Bloody hell! Charlie, you know we can't just
let them have these."

"Yeah, I do. But we have no choice for the moment. Put a tracker in the
second box. We give them the goods, they give us the kid and we blow it up with
one of the American's smart missiles as soon as it crosses the border."

"Shit, that's risky. I'll have to make a call."

"Do it and get back to me. Minutes count."

Charlie
hung up as another call came in.

"Charlie, have my toys yet?"

"Funny you should ask. I am making final arrangements now."

"Good, so glad to hear it. I guess you know by now that you have further
incentive."

"What are you talking about?"

"I have the one named Miles."

"I don't know any Miles."

"Oh, I think you do. I used your cell phone last week, remember? He's
even on your speed dial."

"Ok, so I know him. What about it?"

"I know that Allah would not approve of Jamie and Miles. It's
unnatural."

"If you hurt him, you will never see the toys, and you will see me behind
every rock."

"Well, we wouldn't want that now, would we? Meet me. I want to put our
relationship in perspective."

"I can be at the warehouse in ten minutes."

"No, these things need to be said between two warriors. No one else. Meet
me on the train platform just down from the warehouse. Be there in ten
minutes."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Think!
You gotta think! Alright, they have to be in this warehouse. That's where the
delivery guy went and the car was sitting with the doors open right next to it.
So, Miles and maybe Charlie are inside. I'm the wildcard. Nobody knows about
me. So, how do I get in?

The
day moved into afternoon as Jamie walked through a parking lot against the back
of the warehouse. Jamie could see a lot of old and well-rusted equipment inside
the fence line. The weeds had overtaken much of it. They stood like ancient
monuments to old construction equipment. Jami continued to follow the fence
until he found a low spot where the rain runoff had washed the mud away. He lay
down and slid underneath it, catching his shirt on one of the wires. He pulled
it loose from the fence's grasp and slid back, pulling his legs all the way
through to avoid the sharp points of the rusted chain link fence. He got to his
feet and made his way through the brush to the back of the building.

He
edged his way to the opening of the quadrangle. The building was like the walls
of a box with a courtyard in the center. There were passages in the corners
that allowed people to enter from the street or to get out in the event of a
fire. These were long ago fenced over to keep homeless and others who would be
drawn to such an empty place out. Besides the arch in the front with the black
iron gates, there was another less ornamental gate in the rear. Jamie supposed
that this was how they got all the old equipment into its grassy grave. He
peeked around the corner and saw three, nice, new, cars. One man walked by the
gate looking out at the traffic passing by. He was not concerned with anything
happening from inside the gate. Jamie stepped around the corner into the
stairwell.

Cautiously,
he craned his neck to try and peek to see what, if anything, was ahead of him
on the landings. He went up several flights, looking in the windows of the
different floors. He was on the third and he looked through the window to see
that there was sky above, inside the building. The roof had collapsed many
years ago. He backtracked to the floor below and tried the door. It opened, but
weather kept it from moving freely. He could only open it about a foot. It dug
into the dirt on the floor and became wedged. Jamie sucked in his tummy and
carefully and quietly slid in. He made his way toward the front of the
building. He knew that they were probably on this floor because of the
conditions of the floors above him and because the delivery guy said he had to
go up several flights of steps. Jamie wondered what the guy thought when he got
back and found him gone.

Jamie
stepped up to a door. It was the old, metal-type with the push bar to open it.
He put his ear to it and listened. He heard nothing, so he gently pushed the
bar in and the metal to metal sound of the locking mechanism engaged. Jamie
winced as it clunked and then opened. He opened the door ever so slowly, not
knowing at all what was on the other side. There was no handle on the outside
and as he tried to let it close quietly, it slipped from his fingers and banged
shut. Jamie gasped and looked around. He was sure it was heard. He ran across
the landing and slipped inside another door. It opened into what looked almost
like a classroom. He glanced out of the dirty window to see a guy with a gun
going for the stairwell he had just come from. He looked around for a place to
hide. He reached up and locked the door and sped over against the wall in a
recessed alcove and he pressed himself against the wall on the bottom shelf of
a book case. There were piles of large pieces of paper with bluish lines and
numbers on them. They were blueprints and some were hanging much the way they
must have when the building was a thriving business. Sticks holding the many
pages and then the rods they were attached to hung in well weathered slots. He
could hear the guy coming up the steps. Jamie held his breath as he heard the
guy try the door. Finding it locked, the guy kicked at the door. It held. He
kicked again, harder, and the wall shook. He thought his heart was going to
explode the way it pounded in his chest. Jamie prayed, "Oh dear God,
please don't let him get me." He prayed silently and as the thug landed one
more mighty kick to the door, the wall shook and as the door opened, the
cascade of blueprints fell to the floor in a pile.

Jamie
lay there not knowing if the fallen blueprints covered him completely or not.
He tried to not breathe and when he had to, he took shallow breaths. He heard
footsteps approach where he lay buried under the mountain of blueprints. The
dust on them made Jamie's nose tickle. He tried to hold the sneeze by squeezing
his nose.

He
heard the footsteps walk away across the room and through the door on the other
side of the room. But would he have to come back this way to get out? Is he
gone? Is he still in the next room? Questions flew through Jamie's mind. He lay
there praying silently to himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Wil, why don't you and Sebastian go up and get your baths out of the
way. We'll make some popcorn and curl up and watch a movie before you guys turn
in," Annie smiled

"Ok, but have you heard anything from them yet?"

"No, not since they got there. But they are probably busy, you know. I'm
sure they'll call tomorrow. Now, off you go and I'll start the popcorn."

Sebastian
took Wil's hand and pulled him towards the bathroom. Wil just looked down, deep
in thought as Sebastian pulled off his shirt and stepped on the toe of one sock
with his heel and pulled his foot out. Repeating the process, he looked at Wil
who wasn't moving, "Come on, it'll be fun. I'm hard just thinking about
it."

Sebastian
lifted up Wil's shirt, pulling it over his head. "Come on!" he said,
pulling down his pants and underwear in one movement and using his feet to
complete the maneuver, he took his toe and caught the leg of his shorts and
underwear and flipped them up and into the laundry basket. "Two
points!" he yelled. But Wil was standing there staring at the phone in his
hand.

"I could call him. All I have to do is push the button," Wil said in
a whisper, bringing it up in front of him.

"Yeah, but remember? It's so far away that it's dark there when it's
light here. They are probably asleep there right now. You'll wake them
up."

"It will just go to voice mail. I just have a bad feeling all of a
sudden."

"You're just a worry wart. Come on. If you still feel bad after we have a
shower, you can call him then. It'll be dark here in just a little bit and then
it will be light there," Sebastian said. Kneeling down and grabbing the
legs of Wil's shorts, he snatched them to the ground. He leaned in and with his
lips over his teeth, playfully bit on Wil's small piece through his Batman
under roos. He could feel it thicken under the pressure of his bite.

"I
don't think it works just like that," Wil said. "But maybe waiting
isn't such a bad idea," he said, grinning and looking down at the boy who
was looking up at him, with a rapidly hardening rod showing through the
material of his under roos. Sebastian moved his mouth left and then right in a
rapid, short movement and Wil bent over quickly. Pulling his piece out of
Sebastian's mouth, he squealed and pulled Sebastian to his feet.

"You start the water and I'll get my shoes off."

Sebastian
smiled as his thin frame stretched to step into the tub shower. His rigid
little pipe, rock-hard, standing out in front of him. Wil looked at his smooth,
hairless, plate and knew how firm that little mound felt when it smacked in a
rabbit fuck, fitting perfectly between his smooth round orbs. He throbbed in
anticipation. The call would have to wait for a bit.

Wil
stepped into the tub, looking at the firm little ass sticking out in front of
him as Sebastian bent over to feel the water temperature. Sebastian felt two
hands on his hips and something hot sliding in the trough between his buns.

"Hey,
find a little soap will ya?" Sebastian giggled as Wil dropped to his knees
and planted his tongue in the rosy pink flower before him. Sebastian squealed
as he let loose with a squeaker fart and Wil slapped a rapid beat on his buns.
Laughing, Sebastian pulled up on the switch that routes the water to the shower
head and Will got the blast of cold that always precedes the warm. Another
squeal, this time by Wil, as Sebastian took advantage of the distraction and
dropped down to his knees sucking Wil to the bottom of his raging, hard rod and
grabbing the soap quickly, he squeezed the wet bar, shooting it into the back
of the tub. He reached between Wil's squirming legs and forced his soapy finger
through his tight ring all the way to his last knuckle. When Sebastian sucked
his rod to the root, Wil bent over as before, but now with this finger wiggling
against his magic spot he was forcing his ass forward into the eager mouth of
his sweet Sebastian. And sweet Sebastian was ready for it.

Wil
grabbed Sebastian's head with both hands. Wil had his head bent forward, trying
to stem the flow of water directly into his face, but he still had his bare
pelvic mound thrust forward as far as he could. His stomach muscles started
their own life as they rippled, undulating his little mound against the vacuous
determination of his boy. He felt something boiling up inside him and he pulled
Sebastian's head toward him as he began to rabbit fuck the boy's mouth.
Sebastian tickled his cock with the tip of his tongue just the way he knew made
Wil crazy. You could hear the cum rising in Wil as the squirming boy danced
against the one who was trying to suck him inside out. As Sebastian rammed his
finger in one more time and pressed hard against the sensitive prostate, Wil
exploded in his mouth, his balls giving forth all they could as wave after wave
of lust's gratitude sent chills of orgasm over the whimpering boy until he
collapsed in the tub, gasping for breath as the water sprayed over top of the
puddle of boys in the bottom.

As
Wil's thoughts began their trip back to reality, Sebastian leaned forward and
kissed him, his tongue snaking its way into Wil's mouth. He tasted a little of
himself in the exchange as he kissed him back. Remembering that Sebastian had
not cum, he kissed him back more passionately as only two young, inexperienced
boys can.

He
reached for his firm little rod and gave the head a little tug. Sebastian
gasped and went even harder. He felt like he was stretching the skin as Wil
lifted him upward and kissed down to his nipples. Sebastian whimpered as the
pain of his erection was almost unbearable. Will kissed his way back up to his
mouth.

"How do you want it?" he whispered in his ear as he kissed his neck.
Sebastian grabbed the liquid soap and his intent was clear. Wil turned around
and got on all fours with his back to the spray. He wiggled his butt as he
looked over his shoulder at the scurrying hard boy preparing. Focused on the
boy ride before him, Sebastian's breathing became more rapid.

Sebastian
pumped a little soap in his hand and gasped as the cold soap slathered up his
flaming hot rod and balls. Then he reached down and soaped up the waiting boy
hole of pleasure. He dropped down, spreading Wil's legs, as his knees placed
themselves between the mounds. Sebastian reached up and fondled the balls and
nearly limp dick as he pulled Wil back towards him by the handful until the
slippery tub made Wil drop down on his arms in front, presenting the pleasure
path up high and right in front of his flaming staff of boyhood. He lined it
up, placing the stretched tight head against the soaped ring of heaven and
pushed it in ever so slowly.

As
the head passed through, Wil gasped at the fire it carried and his girth didn't
seem to be that of the boy twig he had held in his hands just minutes before.
It felt like the boy had traded it in for a baseball bat. Wil tried to relax
and push back, but with little relief. Suddenly, the little boy shoved what
felt like a man-sized dick to the hilt as Wil came up off the floor of the tub,
his hands pushing him up and he thrust his head back, gritting his teeth.
Sebastian wrapped an arm around his chest and grabbed for Wil's package and
started to stroke it. The hand around Wil's chest found a nipple and he rolled
it and tugged as he gently bit the muscle covered tendon rigidly presenting
itself by Wil's shoulder. Having Wil squirming in pain and delight, he began
the push and pull of wanton boy lust. As the cum boiled deep inside of
Sebastian's love, he slammed his pelvic mound faster and harder against the
rigid boy statue in front of him. His hand left Wil's package and his
fingertips grazed the ripples of his abdomen and then, with his flat palm, he
pulled firmly on his boy as he rammed harder and then with a yell, thrust
forward and stayed. Then again; and then once more as he held firmly against
his boy's all. His passion ebbed and together they slid into a pile of spent
boy love in the bottom of the raining tub.

They
lay there until a knock came on the door. "Hey, you guys alright in there?
Better hurry up, the popcorn is getting cold."

They
got out and dried off amidst the giggles and blushes as one eyed the other
discretely. As they opened the door and made their way downstairs in their
clean underwear, Wil grabbed his phone and pushed Jamie's speed dial number and
held it up to his ear.

My apologies for the length of time between this and the previous chapter.
Life just happens sometimes and has to be dealt with. I'll endeavor to be more
timely in the future. Thanks for hanging with me.

I now have a list that sends out new writing and new chapter notices. It is
never shared and it is never used for anything else. No pass alongs, charm
mails or even patriotic stuff. That is not the purpose of it. To join just
email me and I'll add you. Getting off is just as easy. Shoot me an email and
as soon as I stop crying I'll push the delete button. My email is: mytrickybits@gmail.com

I would like to thank Mark, my editor. They have just been through an
evacuation for flooding and he still found time to edit for me. He is the best.
He makes it look like I have a clue. Thanks to his significant other for
letting me borrow him. Anyways, if you would like to tell him how great he is, mark@mandmsplace.com

I have other stories and they may be found on www.Nifty.org
, www.IOMFATS.org and www.Screeve.org. Thanks to these wonderful
sites for hosting work for us to read and write to. Greatest of all, Thanks to
you, the reader without you, we're only writing for ourselves. Your email is
our paycheck. Thanks in advance. Even if you tell me it's complete crap.

Finally, please don't post anyplace else unless you ask first. Chances are
I'll say yes, but I like to be asked.